Strong as Ice
by Klenda V
Summary: After Gali is trapped inside the Shadow Relm in the events of Journey to One, Kopaka is the only one who doesn't run to her side. He's never felt the need to explain himself to anyone, and until now only he has known the reason. Someone had to stand strong...He decided it had to be him.


Ice is cold. What an inane statement. Sounds like something Tahu would say. Obviously, it's true. Ice is cold; it's rigid, hard, unwelcoming, and by any accounts generally inhospitable and unpleasant for most people to have around.

Which is why, I'm sure others have thought, I made no attempt to stop Gali as she charged to face Umarak unaided. Why I watched, unmoving and unmoved, as her soul was ripped from her body and plunged into the realm of shadows.

Before she took that first step in her fateful charge, I could see what she was trying to do, and that there was no way she could possibly succeed. The levity of her voice belied the steely conviction that filled her frame and left me with no doubt of her determination. As often as she might have tried to hide it with playful banter and casual laughter, there has always been something more that, for one moment, every Toa could see.

Although I knew what she was doing, I did nothing to help her, or even try to talk her out of it. I doubt I could have convinced her. The thought came to my mind to run interference for her, distracting Umarak so she could get away safely. But then I saw Tahu start to move, and Ekimu warn against it. How well I remember the look on Ekimu's face. Like a storyteller explaining to a child that they could not interrupt the story he told. Ekimu has always had something strange about him. Perhaps the result of his relation to his brother, but not entirely. He only ever told us the information that he thought was relevant at the time, and no more than that. Did he not trust us with the full truth? He spoke so often of fate and its control over the lives of my fellow Toa and myself—I think he likes to think of himself as the mouthpiece of Destiny. It's not hard to see how much he enjoyed keeping that bit of control over us, teasing with the cloying knowledge of a hidden _something_ that we didn't—or "couldn't"—know. Not until he decided we were ready, or worthy, or whatever he decides is important for him.

Which is why one of the few positive emotions of that moment was my satisfaction when Ekimu's eyes widened in horror when Gali's spirit was taken. That instant where you could see he was whispering behind his mask, "by all the elements, what have I _done?!_" A sick satisfaction, perhaps, but I feel it was a sort of justice. When the one in control realizes that he has none.

And it was control, indeed, that kept me sane in that moment. When Gali's body hit the ground, Tahu's shout of anguish ringing in my ears, Lewa screaming her name, Onua stepping back in horror behind me, and Pohatu clenching his fists hard enough to bruise his palms with his fingertips.

And I… I stood unmoving, like a statue of cold, heartless ice.

It was not that it took me a moment to process what had happened, or for the pain and fear to sink in. No…everything hit home with the empty thud of her lifeless body on the unforgiving ground. There would have been few things I would have wanted more than to throw my weapons aside, run to the body, even crash forward and tear apart the shadow realm itself to bring her back.

But every other Toa was rushing to her side, unable to control their fear for her; her, their teammate, their sister. Even Ekimu had given up his pretense of control, for just a moment to mourn her. Then, he returned to his pretense of claiming it was all meant to be.

No one seemed to remember that Umarak still stood not fifty strides from us. There was no way we could afford to let him take advantage of us in the shocked state we were in.

I remember the look in Umarak's eyes, and I knew he planned to tear us all apart as we wept for her, boasting all the while that our friendship, our closeness, made us weak. He watched in twisted amusement as Ekimu knelt by her body, and dark energy pulsed through the destroyer as he prepared to send us all to oblivion.

I remember the shudder of icy rage that went through me as I met his gaze. _No_, I challenged. _We are not weak. We are strongest when we care. She taught me that. The value of being close to someone. And I will teach you this truth if I have to freeze the life from your foul throat._

Umarak did not make the move he had been planning.

And I knew, at that moment, if no one had anything stable—if we were all rocked by this loss—we could not stand. There had to be an anchor, of sorts. Something unchanging, unyielding, unmoved.

Like Ice.

And so, for her, I stood unmoved as she collapsed. I stared down the Destroyer because we could not be left is strong, I told myself. She will make it through this.

And if not…well.

I can always mourn tomorrow. Releasing my grief here and now will do nothing. She would not want her loss to destroy this team, her team.

Besides. I can always take it out on Umarak.


End file.
